In the Drink

Finally had a day near 60 degrees and free of rain or snow. A rarity for this spring. Grabbed the kids and headed down to a small spring creek. It was a great day for a hike.




The boy had a great time down by the water exploring, investigating, and watching the stream flow. Must have gotten a little carried away as seconds after this photo was taken he went in for an unexpected dunk into the frigid waters of this coldwater stream. Poor little guy was scared, understandably so, but he handled himself well as he bobbed along in the current until he could get back up on his feet. What a champ.


Found a few Plecoptera flying around. Intolerant of water pollution stoneflies are an excellent indicator of good water quality. Always reassuring to know that a few streams within our watershed are still healthy.


Didn't spot any fish, though the runs we jaunted through were shallow and didn't provide much for cover. I have yet to find a brownie hiding within any reach of the stream. The last time I ventured furthuer upstream with rod in hand, I nearly broke my femurs several times traversing the interwoven crags of downed tamaracs and spruce logs covered over by grass. Not sure I'm up for another risky venture especially since threading a fly through those snaggy runs is about as difficult as escaping injury.

The water is still a bit cold, so vernal spawners like the white sucker likely aren't in the lower reaches of the river yet. In all due time....

prairie busting

The last adventure before heading West.


I gave it a go at my trusty old spot and after a couple hours of one silver redhorse, one smallmouth, and a hard earned carp, I got in the Conestoga and left Dodge. My home watershed is the only one in the state still at flood stage (at flood stage since Fall of 2008). Since it's quite obvious that flow conditions won't improve in the near or possibly even long term, it was time to bust some sod and and plow some new waters.



I visited a few waters that I typically don't fish until later in the year. Not because the fish won't be there this time of year, but because spring runoff makes the water unbelievably murky. At this stage of the game, there really isn't much difference between chocolate milk and pea soup save the color of the silt and clays. It was time to play the heron and do some stalking.


Carp were spotted at two of the three spots I scouted. At the first location, chocolate milk flowed out of a wetland adjacent to a lake. I was surprised to not find any white suckers holding in reaches downstream of the wetland, but the water was presumably too turbid and silt laden for their liking. I made my way up a shallow basin of the wetland where I captured a few carp late last summer. Even after an hour of scanning the water, I could not make out any fish near the surface except for the tail of a pike, relentlessly chasing around a school of baitfish. Not tell tale bubble trails were visible, but I did witness silt plumes on three occasions. I was convinced at the time that those were carp plumes, and blindly fished a nymph in the plumes to no avail. Twice, I ended up dredging up a micro perch from the muddy depths. I don't think I've ever caught a gamefish this small, as they barely made three inches in length. In retrospective, those silt plumes were likely from the baitfish and the ensuing pike. Bust.

My other destination involved a prairie slough, a vestige of an old river backwater. Fish were holding near an inlet from another slough, tight to a conglomeration of sticks and branches woven together by a busy beaver. Not only was it near impossible to make out the silhouettes of a fish, those staggered sticks were water hazards, waiting to devour and entangle any fly that came near it. Get fouled up in that mess, and you blow any chance you ever had with those fish. It was tricky, and if it wasn't for patience, I would have left the scene after the first twenty minutes. But I had a manifest destiny with some carp. I tied on a brown Sea Donkey, as rubber legged flies can really help in low viz conditions. And, carp love crustaceans. Virtue paid off, as ten minutes later I was gazing into the golden sides of the ghost.



Now that I paid my dues and earned these fish, it's time to go have some fun and slay those beasts out in the wild, wild, West. Manifest Destiny.

High water rising

With all the hype on the flooding in the Red River valley, the Mighty Miss is up and out of it's banks and on the prowl. Access roads along the banks were closed due to the fact that they were 3 feet under water. Obviously fishing was out of the question.



Time for a little billy goating. No much on the way of fossils and the agate pickings were slim, however, I did manage to pick up a half-dollar sized nugget. I discovered a few spring creeks flowing out of the bluffs, including a couple of mini waterfalls, always cool.



The Mississippi is an awesome display of raw power. At over 95,000 cfs, the river is a force to be reckoned with. That's some serious Q. I watched 6 foot diameter cottonwoods float on by like a bunch of toothpicks.



The bright side: these high waters will bring some much needed life to the numerous backwater lakes. There's bound to be a few big feesh hunkering down in those refuges until the water backs down.

recon-ciliation

Even though I had a laundry list of chores planned for the day, I couldn't pass over a rare sunny afternoon in mid-November with temps rising into the low 40s. Priorities. I grabbed the little roughfisherette and headed outdoors. We hit the hills and headed down to a local coldwater stream. Frost still held tightly to the ground in shaded areas, seeking refuge from the weak Fall sun. The kid played with sticks and followed the roughfisher around like a shadow. I made the afternoon constructive and conducted some recon for next spring's sucker run.


I found a few good lies where fish will hold during their spawning run and a ton of snags that would break me off in a heartbeart if ever I hooked up with a fish in there. Line control and playing a fish fast will be key. I discovered a bunch of cases from the Limnephilidae Family, or northern caddis flies. I haven't noticed this particular style of case, mainly consisting of cut leaves and woody debris, in many of the area streams I fish. I typically encounter the tubular or rock/pebble style of caddis case. After doing a little reading, it looks like these species of caddis like to hang in swampy areas, likely why I haven't observed these nymphs in the faster reaches of water I usually fish.

Looks like another item to add to the winter tying list.